White Christmas
by HardyGurl94
Summary: Sam and Dean spend Christmas at Pastor Jim's, along with Caleb and later Bobby. Lucky for them, its snowing! Somebody might want to remind Jim to check the weather forecast next time... Wee!chester. I suck at summaries. R&R!
1. Chapter 1

**Hi all!  
Seems lately I've been motivated to write a couple of SN xmas stories, even though they're a couple of days late!! Think I've got about four that I'm writing, one of which is in progress on this site. I've completed two oneshots, I think....  
Anyway, hope ya'll enjoyed Christmas and best wishes for the New Year. **

**~Hardy Gurl**

**P.S. Please R&R! It wont take long...just let me know what you think =D**

* * *

Nine year old Sam Winchester hit the snow hard and felt the air whoosh from his lungs. He lay still for a second, gasping in precious oxygen. A strong hand grasped his shoulder, pulling him up.

'Sammy, you 'kay?' Dean Winchester gazed at his brother, concern shining in his eyes.

Sammy nodded, still gasping in air. 'W…indeed.'

Dean laughed. 'I can see that, little bro.' he pulled Sam to his feet. 'Should we call it a day?'

Sam shook his head vehemently, his breathing becoming deeper and slowing to a normal rate. 'No way. I wanna to that again!' he grabbed the edge of the toboggan and flipped it right way up. Then, grabbing the rope, he proceeded to haul it up, the runners inching up the hill.

Dean shook his head in amusement and helped his brother drag the sled back up the hill.

* * *

Jim Murphy chuckled as he watched Dean help Sammy back to his feet. Trust Dean to take care of his little brother…

Pastor Jim looked up as Caleb stepped out onto the porch with two beers in hand.

Jim cocked an eyebrow at the young man. 'Caleb–'

Caleb flashed him a grin. ''s all good, Jimbo,' he said cockily. 'I'm only having one.'

He handed the pastor the other bottle. 'Here.'

Jim held his hands out. 'You know I rarely drink,' he said. 'Especially not on Sundays.'

'C'mon, Jim,' Caleb whined. 'You won't get in trouble for having just _one._'

Jim sighed and surrendered. 'Alright.' He took the beer and cracked it open.

Caleb smiled. 'Attaboy.' He sat down in the swinging chair hanging from the corner of the porch and watched the two boys skimming down the hill in their toboggan. 'You'd think they've never played in snow before,' he mused.

'They probably haven't.' Jim said, a sad expression on his face.

* * *

'Dean!' Sam squealed, clutching his brother's jacket as they zoomed down the hill. 'We're gonna crash!'

Dean laughed over his shoulder. 'Never!'

Sam squeezed his eyes shut and gripped the back of his brother's coat for dear life.

'Sammy?' Dean's fingers pried Sammy's from their death-grip on his jacket.

Sammy opened his eyes and noted –much to his embarrassment- that they had stopped at the bottom of the hill.

Dean had a guilty look on his face. "´m sorry, Sammy. I didn't think you'd be scared on this hill.' Dean had coerced his brother into going down the steepest side of the hill.

Sam let out a shaky breath. 'I'm okay. Can we go on the other one?'

'Sure thing, kiddo. Help me drag this thing over.'

* * *

'I sure wish John was here,' Jim said to no one in particular. 'It's not right to leave for a hunt on the day before Christmas.'

Caleb agreed. 'You should've seen the look on Sammy's face when I had to tell him that his Dad was leaving for a few days.'

Jim sighed. 'I know John tries his hardest, but somebody needs to drag his head outta the sand. I'm just afraid that something will happen to those boys.'

* * *

It had started snowing two days ago, and the Winchester boys couldn't have been more excited. They sat on the window seat in the warmth of Jim's manse, watching the snowflakes drift past the window and settle on the sill outside. They'd sat there for around and hour, to Jim's amazement, speaking in hushed whispers and pointing out all the things that had become almost unrecognizable under the blanket of snow. It had snowed during the night, too, and when the boys had awoken the next morning, they'd found Jim's yard and everything surrounding it, buried under a frosty white blanket. Jim had dragged an old wooden toboggan out from under the stairs, explaining to John and Caleb that it had been his daughter's. John had packed and left shortly after, not even pausing to explain his absence to his sons.

Jim had brushed the snow off the porch, and he and Caleb spent the rest of the morning shoveling the snow from the driveway and the path from his front gate to his door. He had been so busy, he'd forgotten to listen to the weather forecast.

* * *

Sam and Dean propped the toboggan up against the veranda and kicked their boots off at the front door. Shrugging their coats off, they left them in a heap by Jim's coat rack.

'Uncle Jim?' Dean called.

'In here, son.'

Dean ducked into the living room, followed closely by Sam. 'Is there anything to eat?' he grinned devilishly. 'I'm starving.'

Jim looked up. He and Caleb had gone inside after the temperature dropped another couple of degrees. 'You're in luck,' he smiled. 'Check in the oven.'

Dean bolted into the kitchen. Sam grinned at the adults and shrugged. 'He likes his food,' he said nonchalantly. Caleb snorted.

Five minutes later the boys were polishing off the last of their homemade mince and cheese pies. 'Mmm…I love pie.' Dean mumbled contentedly through a mouthful of the last of his pie.

Sam grinned and tugged on his sleeve. 'Can we go back outside now?' he looked anxiously towards the window.

'Sure, I guess. I'll go ask Uncle Jim.' Dean went off to ask the pastor.

Sam tugged on his boots and pulled his jacket back on again. He grimaced as the damp cloth touched his skin. 'Must be wet from sitting facedown on Dean's jacket,' he concluded. Dean reappeared at the door, clumsily trying to put his boots and his jacket on at the same time. 'Pastor Jim says we can, but we gotta come back before dinner. It gets dark earlier in winter.'

* * *

Jim had fallen asleep in his chair, his head resting at an uncomfortable angle. Caleb had gone off to town to pick up the turkey for dinner and to run some personal errands, and Bobby was supposed to arrive shortly for dinner. He awoke slowly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. 'Wha' time 's it?' he mumbled to himself, glancing at the clock above the window.

'Oh no!' he cried, watching the snow swirl around outside, completely obliterating the world outside the window. 'The boys!'

* * *

**Oh dear...what will happen to the boys? Stay tuned to find out...  
Reviews are like late Christmas presents =D**

**Wow! On the Word document it looked like I'd written a lot, but on it makes me look like I havent written much at all!**

**Hmm....oh well, off to write the next chapter....**

**R&R!!!!! **


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi guys! Thanks to you people who reviewed...****  
****Just to let you know, pretty much all of my stories (including this one) are un-beta'ed, so all mistakes are mine. ****  
****Disclaimer: I do not own the Winchester boys =(**

**Hope ya'll had a Merry Christmas, and are looking forward to a fresh start in the New Year!****  
****This story is my present to you. Awww.....**

**~Hardy Gurl**

**P.S. sorry this chapter is a bit late....I thought I'd posted it but in reality I'd only edited it and forgot to upload.....**

**Anyway, enjoy! (I hope...)**

* * *

'Hey, Dean?'

'Yeah?' Dean looked up from re-tying the rope to the toboggan.

'Can we make a snowman now?' Sam asked timidly.

Dean grinned. 'Sure, kiddo. There's a clearing behind this hill.'

Sam halted him. 'Are you sure we should go that far? I mean, we're already quite far from Pastor Jim's.'

'It'll be fine, Sammy.' Dean assured him. 'Plus, we've got ages to go before we have to be back.'

Sam didn't look convinced but followed his brother anyway.

When they reached the clearing, Dean let Sam choose the place to build the snowman. They began rolling a huge ball of snow until their hands were numb.

'I think my hands are gonna fall off,' Sammy complained as they sat down in a snow bank to rest. He pulled his wet gloves off and shoved his hands in his pockets to warm them up. Dean did the same.

'Well, we've done one part already, and that was the hardest. We can't really stop now.' Dean said. 'If we can finish it by the time we have to go home, then we can come back tomorrow and decorate it.' He smiled suddenly. 'Then we can show Dad when he gets back.'

'Kay.' Sam put his wet gloves back on and started rolling up another snowball. Dean joined, and soon the ball was getting bigger and bigger.

Sam's thoughts drifted to his father. It had come as a real disappointment to Sam when Caleb had told him that John was going away for a few days. Sam recalled how his father had skipped out the _previous _Christmas too. Sam knew how much pressure was on his father's shoulders, especially being a solo parent, but living in dingy motel rooms and eating three meals a day out of a diner or takeaway bar was taking it a bit far.

Before long, the brothers had finished the second ball and were starting on the third when Dean glanced up at the darkening sky. 'We should probably start heading back soon, Sammy.' he said. 'I don't like the look of the sky, and it's nearly time to go anyway.'

Sam looked up at the dark clouds forming up above him. There was something foreboding about the clouds, and he was starting to feel unsettled. 'Yeah, you're right.'

Dean grinned, despite the growing unease he felt in the pit of his stomach. ''course I am. I'm the oldest.'

'Whatever.' Sam grumbled.

They packed the three snowballs one on top of the other, and packed up their belongings. Piling the backpack Dean had bought onto the sled, they hadn't stepped one foot in the direction of Jim's house before the first few flakes of snow began to fall.

Sam giggled delightedly. 'Dean! It's snowing!' When it had snowed at Jim's yesterday, the adults wouldn't let him go out and play in it until he had finished his chores. Murphy's law, it had stopped snowing by then.

Sam stuck out his tongue, trying to catch the flakes that were falling faster and faster. Dean grinned at his little brother's childish behavior.

Suddenly the wind picked up, spinning the fine powder up in the air. The boys stood still for a few minutes. The wind grew stronger, as did the knot of fear tat twisted in Dean's gut.

Sam gripped Dean's arm. 'Dean?!' he cried. What's happening?'

Dean swallowed his fear. 'I don't know, Sammy!' he yelled back over the wind. 'I think it's a snow storm!'

Sam clutched Dean's arm. He knew they were a good twenty minutes walk from Pastor Jim's, and he had the last house on the street.

'Crap.' Dean muttered. He should have listened to Sammy…

'We need to find a place to shelter!' Dean yelled over the wind. He felt Sam nod against his sleeve. 'Don't let go of my arm!'

Sam began to cry, the wind whipping his tears away and what was soft, gentle powder only a few minutes ago stung his face like a thousand needles. He buried his face into Dean's jacket again.

Dean felt like crying himself, but swallowed his tears and tried to figure a way out. His heart was thumping madly in his chest as he tried to see through the stinging snow for a place to shelter. He recalled seeing a clump of trees – the park which Pastor Jim took them to every time they came to visit – off to his right somewhere, but in all the confusion he had become disoriented.

'C'mon, Sammy!' he yelled. 'Let's go this way!' he tugged his brother along with him. 'I think the park is this way!' he lied.

Sam's grip tightened on his brother's jacket, and he allowed Dean to lead him blindly through the storm.

Dean put his hands over his face, and peeked through the gaps in his fingers. _Shit, _he thought, _Dad was SO going to skin his ass. He was supposed to be looking after Sammy, not leading him into a snowstorm!_

Suddenly the ground fell away beneath Dean's feet, and his stomach gave him the sickening impression off falling. He tumbled headfirst, dragging his brother with him.

_Shit, _he thought for the second time. _The ditch._

* * *

**Sorry it's a pretty crap chapter. Still, let me know what you think!**

**R&R! It'd make my day! **

**Just to let you know, I have absolutely NO idea what a snowstorm looks like, feels like, or how fast it arrives, so all errors are mine. I come from the North Island of New Zealand (Auckland) and it doesnt snow in Aucks so I have no idea what I'm talking about. **


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry guys! I've been a bit lazy with updating, I know. I deserve a slap on the wrist. **

**Anyway, here is the next installment! Hope you enjoy!!**

**And thank you to all the kind people who have reviewed so far...it help me to keep writing and updating so long as people are actually enjoying the story. It'd kinda suck writing a story and everyone being like 'yeah, whatever.'**

**I know, I'm crazy. I enjoy every minute of it. **

* * *

Jim had just grabbed his coat from the hall closet and was reaching for his boots and flashlight when a heavy knock sounded on the door. Jim dropped the gear and bounded for the door, praying that he would see John's boys standing, shivering, on his doorstep.

Flinging the heavy oak door open, Jim's heart plummeted through the floor. Instead of Sam and Dean, Bobby Singer stood shivering on the doorstep.

'Jeez, Jim, are you gonna let me in or are you gonna let me freeze to death?' Bobby grinned wryly. His grin disappeared, however, as he saw the harrowed look on Jim's face. 'Jim, what is it?'  
'Bobby, the boys are out in the storm,' Jim cried, rushing back to the closet and gathering the gear up off the floor. 'We have to find them, now.'

'Christ,' Bobby muttered. 'they're out in _this?'_

Jim nodded, tossing Bobby a flashlight. 'Let's get moving. Caleb's in town, and he'll probably be stuck there till morning.'

'Do you know where they went?' Bobby asked as he pulled his hood over his face and trudged through the knee-high snow after Jim.

'They were over on the hill,' Jim yelled back. The winds still hadn't died down, and the snow was being whipped around them furiously.

The men quickened their pace, and Jim glanced behind them. The house, with it's lights burning brightly, soon disappeared into the snow.

Jim bit his lip and trudged forward, wondering for the first time if this was the right thing to do, running half-cocked into a snow storm. No, he thought, gritting his teeth, the boys needed them. And he _would _find them. No matter what.

* * *

Dean grimaced as he tried to push himself up. Pain shot through his right ankle and he gasped, shielding his face from the onslaught of snow and wind.

'Sammy?' he yelled. His brother was no longer clutching his jacket.

'Sam!' his hands frantically patted the snow around him until they rested upon a hunk of material. Squinting through the wind, he could make out the form of his brother lying on the ground next to a large branch sticking out of the ground.

'Oh, no.' Dean realized Sam must have hit his head on the branch when they fell. He remembered the branch, too. It was connected to a log, which was probably buried under the snow. Pastor Jim had taken photos of him and Sammy climbing on it a couple of days before.

'Sammy?' Dean put his lips by his brother's ear. 'C'mon, Sammy,' he shook his shoulder roughly, panic welling in his throat. The movement elicited no response from the younger Winchester. Dean's worry increased.

Dean grabbed Sammy's jacket by the sleeves, near the shoulders, and maneuvered him so that he was carrying him with one arm tucked under Sammy's legs and the other tucked under his neck. For once, Dean was thankful Sam was small for his age.

Bracing himself on the branch, Dean heaved himself to his feet, gasping as he put weight on his injured ankle. Then, inching forward, he began the painstakingly slow climb out of the ditch.

* * *

'I can't see a frigging thing,' Bobby mumbled as swung the torch beam to and fro. He'd stuck close by Pastor Jim so he and the older man wouldn't get separated.

Jim frowned, his hand shielding his face from the onslaught of snow and wind. 'I think we're near the hill now,' he yelled.

'Dean!' Bobby bellowed into the wind. 'Sam!'

This was not good.

* * *

Dean collapsed into the snow at the top of the bank, lowering Sam gently to the ground.

Dean's head was close to his brother's, and he barely heard the moan that escaped from Sam's lips.

'Sammy?' Dean put his face close to his brother's.

* * *

Sam was in a fog. His head was beating a staccato rhythm and his eyes felt glued shut. Slowly, as awareness seeped through the fog, he became aware that his body was numb with cold, and it felt like someone was firing pins at his face and other exposed areas.

'De-'

'Sammy? Can you hear me?'

Sam carefully opened his eyes, then shut them against the wind and snow.

'Okay, Sammy.' He heard Dean say, presumably to himself. A second later, he heard Dean grunt, and suddenly he felt Dean's strong arms supporting him, helping him to stand.

'C'mon, baby brother, I gotcha.'

Dean saw that Sammy had regained consciousness and decided that once they were up and moving, they'd have less chance of freezing to death.

Slipping his arms under his brother's shoulders, he helped him into a sitting position and then helped him stand. He frowned as he felt Sam's violent shivering under his sodden jacket. The kid had no meat on his bones to keep him warm, Dean mused. He gasped in pain as he lost his balance slightly and was forced to put weight on his injured ankle.

They were so screwed.

* * *

**Please R&R!! **

**Hope ya'll have a great weekend! I might write some more tonight because it is SOOOOO muggy! Like, cant-sleep-or-breathe-because-the-air-is-so-thick muggy!**

**To think ya'll are in the middle of winter, and here it's summer....crazy.**

**R&R!!!**

* * *


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